


merrily we roll along

by tinybox



Series: Side Effects May Vary [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, The Core (Undertale), Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 08:33:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18257618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinybox/pseuds/tinybox
Summary: Round and round and round it goes. Where it stops, nobody knows.(The problem with time travel is that it's hard to say exactly where it begins. Add alternate realities to the mix, and things get even more complicated.)





	merrily we roll along

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right now I'm putting this one on hold for a little bit.

The problem with real life is that there isn't really a beginning, and there isn't really an end. Add time travel to the mix, and things only get more confusing. 

But we can pick a place to start off with, and that's good enough for now. 

 

There is a war. It isn't the first war, and it won't be the last, but that's beside the point.

On one side, the humans. On the other side, the monsters.

Two species locked in a seemingly endless battle. 

Here's an interesting question: whose fault is it, anyway? If you place the blame on one side, is it the fault of the entire race, or on a few individuals?

Nevertheless, there is a war. Regardless of who started it, a war still remains unpleasant for both sides, and is generally something that most people would rather avoid. 

It's not the sort of activity where you say, "Oh right, I need to pop off to war for a bit, see you in time for supper."

That would make the whole process simpler, as well as a lot less awful.

 

Maybe you can look at time as a series of small, interconnected moments.

.....

_Isadora owns a bakery with her husband, Claude, who she has been married to for around forty five years. Their establishment is small, but it has a reputation across multiple towns for its Mulberry Pie, which is so delicious that some swear it was handcrafted by angels themselves._

_The recipe itself isn't anything special, but for some reason, any other attempts to replicate it are nothing but pale imitations of the original._

_Today, however, they are both home, sitting in their armchairs by the fireplace and the flames crackle merrily, giving the room a golden glow as well as a pleasant warmth ._

_"Did you hear the news?" Isadora asks. "Apparently the price on mulberries is going up."_

_She folds her newspaper in half, and lightly swats her husband when she sees he isn't paying attention, his focus instead on the new book he had gotten the day before._

_"I'm listening! I'm listening!" the tall, humanoid monster protests, dropping the book onto the plush carpet with a small_ thud _._

  _His four eyes are wide and innocent, but she's been married to him too long to be fooled by his tricks. "Fine, fine," she concludes. "What was I talking about, then?"_

_"Something about mulberries?"_

_"Close enough."_

_She sighs, but her smile is soft. "That must be a really interesting book you've got there," Isadora teases, reaching up and bopping him gently on the nose._

_"It is! It's talking about the difference between human and monster magic, as well as the similarities. There are a lot of ranging theories on why our souls look so much different, but no one seems to know for certain. Anyway, the author of the book is really good."_

_"You and your soul theories," she says fondly. "Maybe you should have been a scientist instead of a baker. You even have the whole absent minded professor part down to par."_

 .....

Seven human mages stand on the outskirts of the mountain. They vary in age, the youngest is seventeen, whilst the oldest among them is in her late 60's, and the rest are in between. One of the mages, the light blue soul of patience, is clutching a locket tightly in his right hand. 

  
The monsters are being held back by a temporary barrier; their job is to create the real one.

But such a powerful spell does not come without consequences.

 

_The orange soul human, a thin, reedy man with a thick mustache, is looking straight ahead, gaze unblinking. "What do you think will happen afterwards? Do you think things will get any better?"_

_The young green mage nods their head in a agreement. "Probably. Right? I mean, this is important right? What we're doing...we matter, right?"_

_For a moment there is nothing but silence._

_"You matter. We matter," the red mage says abruptly, "and maybe history will look back at us and see us as heroes, but that's not important. What matters now is that we do this."_

_After that, nothing else was said._

_(When the spell dies down, nothing left remains of the seven mages save for an abandoned locket lying on the forest floor.)_


End file.
